


Supernaturally Logical

by LoveandScience



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, M/M, Slow Build, kind of suicidal dean so if that triggers you then avoid chapter 11, season 7 divergence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-21
Updated: 2014-01-09
Packaged: 2018-01-05 10:31:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 13,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1092842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoveandScience/pseuds/LoveandScience
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set in season 7. Making Supernatural less wrong.</p>
<p>“No, that's not Dean.” Castiel stepped forward to inspect the newcomer. “Who are you?” he grabbed the man's shirt and looked him in the eye. “Dean isn't anywhere!”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“The Leviathans have a plan. They're going to cure cancer, AIDS--”

Dean felt his entire body lurch forward and his ears began to painfully ring. “What?” he said, grabbing them, then noticed that the world around him had turned a purple haze and was spinning. He felt his stomach drop as everything appeared again, and he looked around in surprise.

“--all the big ones, to create the perfect herd,” the ghost of Bobby Singer finished.

“Did anyone else experience that?”

Sam and Bobby stared blankly. “Uh,” Sam broke the silence, “what are you talking about, Dean?”

The older Winchester furrowed his brow. “What... what happened to your hair, Sam? It's longer! And why have your clothes changed, Bobby? Spirits have wardrobes?”

Opening his mouth to speak again, the moose of a man was interrupted by the flutter of wings.

Castiel looked around for a moment, slight panic across his features. “Where's Dean?”

“Right there!” Bobby pointed, but the angel shook his head.

“No, that's not Dean.” Castiel stepped forward to inspect the newcomer. “Who are you?” he grabbed the man's shirt and looked him in the eye. “Dean isn't anywhere!” The celestial being had seemingly snapped out of the happy-crazy daze he'd dawdled in for the last several weeks, and burst into rage.

At this point, the green-eyed hunter just looked confused. “Cas, what are you talking about?”

Before he could say another word, the angel was reaching his hand into Dean's abdomen. The pain was blinding, and Dean screamed, but Castiel did not remove his hand until he was sure.

“You... you have his soul,” blue bored into the now-panting man's gaze, and the angel's anger turned to confusion. “I should say, you almost have his soul. There are slight differences.” No one spoke, just waiting for Cas to expand on his wild accusation, and followed his movement to the center of the loose circle they'd formed. “I think you're from another universe.”  
-  
-  
-  
After the shock wore off, the three migrated away from New Dean and had hurried discussions.

“Well, if he's basically Dean, he's probably not evil,” Sam pointed out.

“Yeah,” Bobby supplied, “but that doesn't mean we should trust him.

Castiel looked solemn. “He will help us to return the correct Dean, but his soul is cold.” The other two looked at him for further explanation. “His emotions are... off from what we are used to."

On the other side of the room, Dean paced. He always did his best thinking while pacing, and he really needed to think clearly. Another universe? Well, okay, if you could get here, you could get back. But more importantly, this universe also had Leviathan, and they were a priority because, you know, they were killing people. The hunter looked over to the group. His mind raced in excitement with questions, but he knew it'd take a while before they trusted him enough to answer them all. Sure, he wanted to get back to his own world, but this was unbelievably fascinating.


	2. Chapter 2

Castiel left to find if the angel network knew anything about the switched Deans, and Bobby faded away, leaving Sam and Dean to awkwardly stare at each other.

“So,” the older hunter broke the silence, “did you, uh, have a Ruby thing?”

Sam grimaced at the boldness of the question. “Uh, yeah,” he answered reluctantly.

“Oh. Where are you keeping her?”

The younger Winchester balked. “Keeping her? She's dead!”

Dean looked nonplussed. “Dead? Then how are you keeping a steady supply of, you know, demon blood?”

The two stared at each other as if they each thought the other was an alien. “I don't drink demon blood,” Sam replied after a while.

The green-eyed hunter ran a hand through his hair. “How did you guys avert the apocalypse, then? She gave us a lot of useful information about Lucifer; I don't know what we'd have done without it. Well, it would have been a lot harder, I think. And it helps that you can, at least in my world, exorcise demons and save the human host.”

Sheepishly, Sam looked down. “The apocalypse happened. Sort of. Uh, you broke the first seal in Hell and I killed Lilith, breaking the last. I said 'yes' to Lucifer and was able to take control long enough to toss myself in the pit.”

Dean's eyes were wide. “Bummer,” he breathed. “Man, that's pretty ballsy, taking that risk with Lucifer. Me, I just talked with you after Cas raised me. Ugh, he was such a dick at first. Was yours? He didn't get the whole 'logic' thing for a while, but eventually he learned. Somewhat.” Sam looked interested now, so he continued. “Anyway, you told me about Ruby, and I, well, you were mad, but I tortured her to find out what was really going on. You eventually forgave me for it, but I think you had kind of a crush on her, you know? She spilled about the devil, but you were already addicted to demon blood. You didn't have any ill effects, really, so we figured, why not? We can keep her around for supply. Heaven turned to shit when they realized their little Break the Seals and Get the Winchesters to be Vessels for the Holy War Between Two Dicks with Wings plan wouldn't work. Cas went off, stupidly. Didn't even ask my opinion. The Leviathan are free in our world, too.”

Sam gaped at the alternate Dean. This man was way too well-adjusted and rational to be his brother. “You... still had John Winchester as a father?”

The older hunter made a face. “Look, we both love the guy-- he's our dad. He gave us a lot of useful tools. But he was a control freak, Sam. I put up with it for a long time, and when you found me after Jessica,” the younger man winced at the memory of his old girlfriend, “I went with you on the revenge thing because I didn't want you getting hurt. It was stupid, but I guess it worked out. Anyway, I didn't like the whole soldier-boy routine he had going. Though, he had good taste in music and style. And cars,” he added, thinking of Baby.

So this was Dean, but a little more defiant and logical. Other than that, he was pretty much the same.

Castiel returned, and Sam noticed Dean's posture become a little more guarded. “Nothing is known by Heaven,” came the gruff voice of the angel.

Dean glared daggers at him until Cas, feeling awkward, left again.

“Is your Dean just as pissed at him?” he asked his alternate-reality brother.

The other man nodded. “Dean, our Dean, told him not to go after purgatory or work with Crowley, but he didn't listen.”

Grunting, the newcomer looked down. “Do you think my prayers would reach your Cas?”

“Didn't you just stare him away?”

“Yeah, but I just had a thought. Balthazar sent us to another universe before. I couldn't get the exact recipe and even if I had it, I don't have the angel mojo to do it, but Cas could send me back.”

The flutter of wings announced said angel's arrival. “I can do that, provided I find another angel with that kind of power.”

“Great,” Dean grabbed his arm before the blue-eyed man could take off, “and can you tell me what you all plan to do about the Leviathan?”


	3. Chapter 3

“Do?” Bobby barked, reappearing, “kill them! Those bastards.”

Sam gave the man a worrying look, and Dean surmised these brothers also had concerns about their Bobby going vengeful.

“Can I ask you to reconsider, at least in the interim?” the elder Winchester proposed, to the astonishment of the three men around him. “Just hear me out. The Leviathans are going to cure humanity of major diseases. Things that have baffled humanity for hundreds of years, if not more. Things that will likely continue to baffle us for a long time and take lives. All we need to do is wait until they've cured them.”

“But the Leviathans are murdering people right now!” Sam interjected, apalled by the suggestion.

Dean sighed. “Sammy,” he noted the glare, “Sam, sorry, look. A few people are going to die now if we wait, but then thousands, hundreds of thousands or more, will be saved with the cures to these diseases. It's juvenile to just ignore that. I would think saving more lives is the preferable option.”

Castiel huffed. “I told you his soul was cold.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Cold because I consider the facts instead of blindly jumping in at the first emotion I have? What kind of guy is this other Dean?” He was shoved suddenly and violently against the wall by the angel, who pressed his arm against the hunter's neck.

“Don't talk about Dean,” the celestial being warned, eyes flashing bright.

Rational Dean looked down, not wanting his eyes burned out. “I think you should ask Meg if she's heard about any demons who might have done this. If we don't figure that out, they might just do it again, making a spell reversal useless.”

Castiel let him go with an annoyed look, and vanished.  
-  
-  
-  
Castiel needed a moment to himself. Drifting through the atmosphere, he reverted to wavelength form, feeling instantly more relaxed. He needed to think. Thinking, hah. This Dean seemed to only think, devoid of much emotion at all. Had he been born that way, or had the other Castiel brought him back soulless, as he, himself, had done with Sam? No, he'd seen the soul. But there was something not right about it.

It was upsetting to learn that he had failed Dean in another universe entirely, even if this other Dean was an assbutt. He just couldn't get it right, whatever he tried.

He wondered how the other Castiel differed, and if he gave everything for Dean, too. Whatever he felt for Dean, he knew the hunter did not reciprocate it. Any admiration Dean had for the angel had been destroyed when Castiel broke his trust. It was heart-wrenching, to use a phrase suited more to human anatomy. His entire grace ached-- that was a more accurate way of putting it. They'd been building something.

And then, he mused, I messed it all up, because that's what I routinely do. I don't fit in Heaven, nor do I fit on Earth, and certainly not with Dean Winchester.

A few minutes later found him counting honeybees in Australia, all sins and responsibilities forgotten. But that was okay. At least he didn't hurt all over, anymore.


	4. Chapter 4

In another universe, Dean opened a door and promptly slammed it again.

“Just what the hell is Ruby doing here?” he hissed at his not-brother Sam.

The inordinately tall man gave him a look of disbelief. “Demon blood supply.”

“What the hell, Sammy?”

“We aren't related. Don't call me that,” ordered Sam. “Dean and I use my powers as backup when our exorcism tapes don't work.”

Emotional Dean raised an eyebrow. “You don't just kill demons?”

The moose-like man looked disgusted. “They're using human hosts! We don't just indiscriminately kill them! We don't know how badly the demons have treated the body, so there's always a chance the person might survive.”

“Oh.”

“You might be interested to know that after running tests, we found we can run the exorcism recording at up to approximately 2.3 times normal speaking speed. Any faster and it doesn't take, for some reason.”

Before Green-Eyes could speak, Castiel fluttered in. “I've put out the word on the angel network. That's assuming any of them will bother helping me after what I did,” he looked at Dean guiltily, “and Meg's going to research the demon goings-on.”

Sam nodded. “Good. Can you babysit while I call Ellen? I'll also see if I can get anything out of Ruby.”

“I don't need babysitting!” Dean protested, pissed that his brother was treating him like a toddler. Well, it wasn't really his brother, but he'd have treated any Sam better than this.

The other hunter left without waiting for an answer, knowing Cas would comply. The angel turned to the older Winchester and tried to smile. “I believe he's simply referring to your emotional volatility. You did admit to killing demons and their hosts, and it's important we keep the one in there,” he gestured, “alive.”

Dean scowled and grabbed a beer from the fridge. He took a sip and turned back to Cas. “So, you didn't listen to me in this universe, either?”

Cas shook his head.

“You don't seem to be going mental like my... our Cas.”

“Oh, I did for a few days, but Dean told me this was my mess to clean up.”

“Hey,” he asked, plopping on to the sofa, “so is Jo alive, too?”

The angel nodded, and continued standing, staring at the other man for several uncomfortable seconds.

“If this other Dean's such an asshole, why'd he sell his soul for Sam?”

Castiel looked like he didn't want to answer, but he sighed and shifted his weight. “Dean was broken by his father's death, and hadn't been thinking right for quite some time after. And when Sam died, too, he convinced himself that Sam'd be fine without him, whereas he, himself, couldn't handle life alone. Dean felt the deal was logically sound. And, of course, he puts Sam before anything or anyone.”

Well, at least Dean cared about Sam in every universe. Apparently, that was a constant. Dean opened his mouth to ask a question, when he heard the sound of wings.

“Hiya, Deano!”

“Gabriel?” the plaid-adorned man's eyes went wide, and he had to stop himself from hugging the archangel. “That's right! Lucifer wasn't here to kill you. Man, you really did us a solid in our world, telling us about the rings. It wasn't you, but, thank you.”

Gabriel laughed. “I really doubt Luci could have killed me,” he sauntered toward Dean, “but hey, you seem a lot more fun than our boring old Dean. Cassie, do we really have to send this one back?”

The blue-eyed angel bristled. “Yes.”

“Yeah, yeah, you're like, in love with him, right? Okay. Anyway, have you figured out what you need to kill Dick?”

Castiel shook his head. “I think Bobby was trying to tell us before he ran out of juice.”

The hunter raised an eyebrow. “Why can't you just pop over and smite them? Aren't archangels supposed to be really powerful?”

Gabriel rolled his eyes. “Even if I could, they have angel warding up. Same reason I can't get Kevin back.”

“It was Gabriel's job to protect him,” Castiel supplied.

“Yeah, thanks brother, rub it in.”

Sam re-entered. “Okay, we have nothing, but Ellen said there's a hunt in the area.”


	5. Chapter 5

Sam sighed. “Look, I know you want to just rush out and defeat the Leviathan, especially since we finally have the know-how, but it doesn't make sense to ignore the cures they're going to create.”  


“This is ridiculous. Can I have my keys, now?” Dean looked at the younger Winchester's expression. “Relax, I'm not going to go get Dick. I just want to go on a drive.”  


Sam reached into his pocket. “I'm going to trust that you love this car as much as our Dean, so bring it back safely.”  


After promising upon his life and reassuring his not-brother he'd be back in an hour or so, Dean found himself alone with Baby. This universe was insane. Well, it was almost identical to his, but this Sam, and apparently Dean, too, were creepily rational. Dean had always considered himself a hardened man, but these guys took the cake.  


So, they wouldn't let him deal with the Leviathan, and he wasn't sure he could succeed alone. He'd tried distracting himself with the hunt Ellen had found, but it hadn't sufficed.

Idly, Dean's mind turned to a certain angel. Would his Cas have snapped out of his funk had they simply talked about it? Something about New Cas made him angry. And no, he snapped at his brain, it wasn't because he missed his Cas.

“Hello, Dean,” the angel suddenly appeared in the passenger seat.

The hunter almost swerved off the road. “Damnit, Cas!”

Castiel looked apologetic. “Sorry. The other Dean is used to that.” Dean stayed silent. “I just, well, you're more in touch with your emotions, or at least more likely to act on them,” Cas started, continuing when there was no response, “and I wanted to know if things worked out in your universe. You know, with us.”

The Winchester shot him a panicked glance. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“I see. Thank you for this information.” A flutter of wings signaled the angel's leave. Maybe there was some truth behind Gabriel's joke about Cas loving this guy. And he most pointedly did not feel a pang of jealousy.

 

Putting his head in his hands, Sam took a deep breath. His brother, the man who had practically raised him, was off in some other reality. He wanted him back so badly, it hurt, but the best thing they could do now was to simply wait. Wait for Dick and the Leviathans. Wait for some lead on who'd switched the Deans. Wait for this extremely emotional Dean to get a hold of himself.

He originally planned to wait for the older hunter to get back to gather the nun bones, but maybe he could just go by himself. It'd probably be easier, that way. Scribbling a note, he clenched his fist as the need for demon blood made itself apparent.

 

Dean had found himself dialing Ellen's number on impulse, and she'd invited him to the New Roadhouse without hesitation. It didn't matter how many miles lay between them-- he'd enthusiastically accepted. Ellen and Jo, well, he'd missed them more than even he'd known. It cut him to the core, knowing that had he and Sam just talked reasonably about Ruby, so many people would still be alive. If his not-brother insisted on dicking around about Dick, then he'd use the time seeing those he'd loved and lost.

Ellen hugged him tightly. “I'm so sorry we aren't together in your universe, Dean.”

He smiled, embracing her as if she were the Ellen he had his own history with. “At least you get a better Dean. One who can take care of you.”

If she noticed the tears in his eyes, she didn't bring it up. “Don't say that. You can't compare yourself to other people. All you can do is the best you can do. I don't care what reality you're from, you're still Dean, and I won't have you talking like that about yourself.”

He smiled, pulling back to commit her face to memory. He didn't know if he'd ever see any Ellen again, and he hated how time had distorted her image into a vague picture. It was a good thing he'd called Sam and gotten the okay to stay, because he'd be staying here for a while.


	6. Chapter 6

Rational Dean would have been more than happy to take on a few hunts alone, but Sam didn't quite trust him-- not even enough to drive the Impala, which made the older hunter roll his eyes. He'd pointed out that his Baby or not, he'd treat her like a lady because that's what she was, but the moose wouldn't budge.

It occurred to Sam that this Dean took his job more seriously than he'd ever seen in a hunter. He found cases quickly, eventually creating a stockpile to choose from.

“You know,” Dean had pointed out, “I checked up on some cases I solved back home, and they're unsolved here. Since I have the inside scoop, we could wipe those out no problem.” So the two began methodically working their way from state to state, rarely needing more than a day per location-- and not more than a few hours for cases Dean had already worked.

Sometime driving between the seventh and eighth location, Sam looked kindly at this steely version of his brother. “We could take a rest, man. You've been running yourself ragged and you have bags under your eyes.”

The elder Winchester turned to him with the same haunted gaze Sam had seen so many times, and for a moment he forgot he wasn't talking with his real brother. “Sam,” he said, quietly, resigned, as if he'd explained this too many times, “there are so few people out there who believe in the supernatural. People are dying, and we're some of the only ones who can do anything about it. Most of the people who know-- people who have been victims or lost family and friends-- aren't mentally or physically equipped to take effective action. I tell people how to defend themselves and their family and what to watch out for, but they're not going to be hunters even if they know the truth. If I don't save as many people as I possibly can, then I'm not living up to my own standards, and those deaths are on my shoulders.”

Sam could have argued. Hell, he wanted to, but Dean moved to face the window and clearly wanted to say no more on the subject.

The days went on, and the younger hunter had to admit they worked well together. The other man was always open to suggestion and willing to talk about whatever Sam asked. It's just that, well, Dean kept it strictly work-related. No bars, no women, and very little camaraderie between them. There weren't inside jokes or shared history or pranks. Sam sorely missed his brother, and hoped that something, anything, would turn up on how to get him back. He prayed that their counterparts in the alternate reality were having more luck, especially since they had more help.

“Hey,” he called to Dean as they got ready for bed one night, “can you give me some advice on how to help Dean out for when you guys are switched back? He's really in a bad place, and he doesn't talk about it.”

It didn't take a mastermind to understand what Sam had implied. Rational Dean fought his own inner battles, constantly, and his brother in another universe wanted insight into it. But how much could he say and remain ethical? He'd essentially be giving away his own secrets, and would he want the other Dean to confide those in the other reality? On the other hand, this was a chance for them to help each other out. If, for example, Rational Dean told Sam enough to help his brother, they'd probably be forgiven for the breach of confidentiality. And, to be honest with himself, he wanted someone to understand in his own universe, because he couldn't ask for help on his own.

“You went through extreme torture when you threw yourself in the Cage with Lucifer. You know precisely how horrible it feels, and it's probably worse than what I endured.” Sam sat down, listening intently. “And I don't know what choice you would have made, given Alistair's option, but when I was in Hell, I lost my ability to think clearly. There's nothing scarier than that, for me, and all I could do was feel. Blinding pain, day in and day out, no end in sight. I didn't want to take Alistair's offer, and I refused until the part of my brain that could form rational thought completely dissipated and I accepted. If I'd have held out longer, maybe had a shred of hope left, Cas would've dragged me out of there and there wouldn't have been a broken first seal.

“Not a day goes by that I don't feel ashamed for, basically, becoming a demon. To think that I actually enjoyed it. It's disgusting, Sam, and I don't even know where to begin to get over that. But maybe if you tell your brother that... that it's okay for him to be alive when so many others have died. If you tell him that, and please, clearly express that you know you don't understand what he went through, because I sure as hell get defensive when someone implies they do, then maybe he'll accept that you care.

“If I'm honest, and I can't believe I'm going to tell you this, but maybe at least one Dean out there can be happy, I just want one damn person in my life who won't leave. Maybe that'll be you, but don't put that kind of pressure on yourself. If you're like my brother, you don't want any part of the hunting life. And I'm fine with that, really. Whether your Dean is, I don't know. But you shouldn't feel tied down to that role. It's not yours, or anyone's, responsibility.”


	7. Chapter 7

“It took you eleven days to drop by and ask Meg to keep an ear out?” Dean asked, incredulous.

Castiel didn't even look ashamed, and just nodded.

“And you're naked on the Impala covered in honeybees-- why?”

“I followed one to his hive, and then remembered you wanted me to talk with Meg. After that, I figured you'd like to know I'd completed your request.”

The hunter took a deep breath, steadying himself, and remembered something Ellen had told him once: don't be so hard on people, especially when they're suffering. “Cas, get some clothes on and come take a walk with me.” A beat passed. “Please,” he added, hoping his request sounded kind enough.

Castiel complied, mojo-ing his usual attire on and vanishing the bees, presumably back to their home.

The two walked in silence for a while, appreciating the peace nature provided, until Dean spoke. “Cas, you feel really guilty, I know you do.” When the angel neither confirmed nor denied this, the elder Winchester continued. “I'm not going to tell you what to feel, but I do know that retreating into your mind isn't going to help. You're probably afraid Sam and the other Dean hate you, and you don't want to face that as a possibility. Can you at least tell me why their approval is so important to you?”

A long silence filled the seconds-- minutes, perhaps-- and Dean thought maybe he'd pushed the angel too far. Just as he opened his mouth to apologize, Castiel stopped walking and turned to him.

“I rebelled against heaven, against my family, because I believed in Dean and Sam Winchester. As if that wasn't enough, I further alienated myself when I chose to work with a demon to fight Raphael and his followers. Any angel that was on my side left upon learning what method of warfare I'd chosen, and if they didn't leave, I killed them. I demolished the ranks of Raphael-- my brothers and sisters. There is nothing left for me in my former home and from my family. They want nothing to do with me.” He took a deep breath. “And I let down the only friends I'd made on Earth, not to mention put their very lives in danger. And Dean,” his voice broke as he turned away.

Dean laid what he hoped was a comforting hand on the angel's shoulder as the celestial being tried to compose himself. “Cas,” Rational Dean said, softly, “he doesn't hate you, okay? It's the opposite.”

“You don't know that. Just because you don't hate your Cas--”

“No,” Dean cut him off gently, but firmly, “I know him well enough. I've been piecing together what I can about the guy. I must have asked Sam and Bobby hundreds of questions, and I'm very certain that he and I are alike in most ways. I may be more into the scientific method and not consider feelings when making important decisions, and he is more prone to going with his gut and acting on impulse, but we're basically the same person, alright? So believe me when I tell you, he loves you.”

Castiel stared at him, head tilted and eyes squinting. “Loves me?”

“I said likes. He likes you. As in, he'll get over what happened because he considers you family.”

“I see.”

Dean turned away, most certainly not with a faint blush tinting his cheeks. No. Not at all.

Cas looked at him for a few moments more. “I'll be back, Dean.”

The hunter heard the flutter of wings, and didn't bother to look, because he knew the other man had left.

Damndamndamndamndamndamn. He mentally slapped himself. Damn. I didn't want to say that. You betrayed me, brain. The one thing I'm supposed to count on. Damnit.

Scowling and stomping the entire way, Dean reached the safehouse, slammed the door behind him, and threw himself face-down on the couch.


	8. Chapter 8

“You'd think people who eat like Sammy would have started organizing when they noticed how different everyone's acting,” Dean mentioned as he put together another route of cases.

“You mean people on a raw food diet?” the younger hunter asked, “Good point. Maybe they have.”

Bobby sat silently, staring at the man who had replaced his adoptive son.

“Yeah, well, if they have, we should reach out. Some might be recruits for the hunting life, and the rest could benefit from at least knowing enough to protect themselves from the supernatural,” the older Winchester suggested. “The more people who know, the less will be caught off guard and killed. They can probably help family and friends, if something ever arises in their town.”

Sam didn't know what to say, because he'd always believed the hunting life should be kept a secret, only entered into upon tragedy. But it made a sort of sense, what this other Dean said.

“What are you talking about, you idjit?” Bobby finally spoke, radiating anger. “Normal people should be spared from our kind of life. They don't need to know all the crap we're saddled with!”

Dean turned to him, sharply. “Why? Because the supernatural don't attack the defenseless? Oh, right. They actually avoid hunters, most of the time, so they can get an easy victim!”

“It's not their problem--” the ghost began, but the older Winchester cut him off.

“Oh, so you're advocating leaving them completely helpless? By your logic, the average person shouldn't know about anything bad until it happens. Blissful ignorance, huh? Do you have some sort of hero complex? I will tell anybody who will believe me.”

Bobby had him on the ground as the lights flickered.

Rushing over, Sam held up an iron bar threateningly. “Calm down, Bobby!” He turned to Dean as the ghost retreated from view. “Damnit, Dean. You know he's on his way to becoming a vengeful spirit, don't antagonize him! Why the hell would you argue with a ghost? It's not even really Bobby, you know? Bobby never would have acted like that.”

Dean took the proffered hand, letting his alternate reality brother help him up. “Sorry, Sam. You're right. I just get really annoyed by anyone advocating ignorance, especially when it gets in the way of saving lives.”

“I understand, just cool it, okay? Maybe don't talk to angry spirits?”

The older hunter laughed. “Right.”

The taller man smiled in relief. That could have gone a lot worse. “Alright, let's see if we can make contact while we're on those cases. The hunts have really become a lot more straightforward with the majority of humans too lazy to get in our way.”

 

As fate would have it, they found a band of people patrolling the streets in the first city they stopped in.

Sam parked the car at the curb, and the two hunters got out, heading toward the group.

“What's going on?” Dean asked, playing dumb.

A woman with long brown hair stepped forward, acting as group spokesperson. “That's what we're trying to figure out. You guys eat raw fruits and vegetables?”

“Yeah,” he answered.

“We think it's something in the food, because all of us have the same diet, and we're the only ones who aren't, well,” she gestured to the slow-moving pedestrians around them, “zombies, for lack of a better word.”

Dean smiled, flirtatiously, “Well, great minds think alike, huh? That's what we noticed in our town, and we wanted to see if it was everywhere.”

She didn't respond to the compliment. “Have you noticed anything else?”

“You mean like black bloodlike liquid oozing out of some human-shaped creature we tried to defend ourselves against and their head reattaching?”

“Yes, something like that.”

The older hunter nodded. “Turns out borax is the solution. And then burying their head far, far away from the body. They're Leviathan, and Dick Roman's the leader.”

The group of people looked among each other, disbelieving.

“Of course, it's not really Dick Roman. He's been dead a while. Look, my brother and I,” he pointed to Sam, “specialize in fighting supernatural creatures. Let's save the disbelief for later, because we really don't have time to stand around arguing. The stuff in processed foods Dick's been putting in is addictive, and it's to fatten people up to eat them. I know, I know,” he placated, when a man tried to argue, “it's a little hard to swallow when it comes to Dick.” Someone sniggered. “We wrote out a general guide on supernatural creatures we've encountered, what their weaknesses are, et cetera. You can read it over and come to your own conclusion about trusting it. We have to go, but our number's on there if you need help or advice on anything supernatural-related.”

With that, the hunters simply left. Dean did not waste time, and to be honest, it kind of impressed the younger Winchester.


	9. Chapter 9

Dean stared at Gabriel, not believing it. He didn't want to believe it. “You're saying the switch was a distraction?”

The archangel nodded, uncharacteristically solemn. “Michael never got thrown in the cage with Lucifer in this world. He's stayed out of the way, in the background. He didn't take a side during Heaven's Civil War-- honestly, we thought his strategy was to let Castiel and Raphael take each other out. Which kind of happened, but Castiel's pretty much in charge there now that he's sane again. Or so we thought.”

“Why would he want an apocalypse?”

Sam frowned. “Michael was supposed to be the big hero. He probably felt pretty useless, afterward.”

“What, so you're telling me I'm stuck here with another apocalypse because some dick with wings is having an identity crisis? Great.” Dean threw himself on to the couch with a groan. “And we were too stupid to notice that he'd started breaking seals?”

Castiel looked at the older Winchester. “You must not agree to be his vessel. He will promise to send you to your world, but ours would be devastated. Millions would die. And we don't know if your saying yes would allow him access into the other Dean, as well.”

Dean lifted his face from the sofa cushion to glare at the angel. “I'm not a dick, of course I won't say yes. And it's not like I want to be an angel condom, either.” He wondered if Castiel didn't trust him, or if the other Dean would have been that much of an asshole.

Taking him at his word, the blue-eyed angel shifted his gaze to Gabriel. “Can you take on Michael?”

“In one on one physical combat? Maybe, but that's bound to be just as destructive as Michael versus Luci.”

“Can we trap them both in the Cage? I mean, I'm not risking Sammy... Sam again, not any reality's version of him, but is there another way?” the older Winchester asked.

Silence.

Gabriel sighed. “Why don't you kids work on the horsemen rings? Deano should have an easy time telling you all about it, since he's done this before. And I'll be back in a few days.”

The two men looked at Dean expectantly.

“Alright,” he said, resigned, “but we can't trust Cas around Famine. He'll just stuff his face with burgers.”

Had his wings been showing, his feathers would have ruffled in indignance at the remark. “I don't eat, Dean,” he snipped.

“Yeah, but your vessel craves White Castle. Sammy craves demon blood, so I'll go on my own.”

“You're immune to Famine's power?” The angel tilted his head, confused.

Dean shrugged. “I'm well-fed. It didn't affect me back home.”

“But I drink plenty of demon blood. Shouldn't I be fine?” Sam finally spoke.

“Look, I got the jump on them. I needed your help last time I did this, but that was because I wasn't prepared. You guys have the Colt, right? This'll be easy, trust me.”

Sam didn't, but Dean stayed firm. He refused to take the risk of losing his brother's counterpart. With a back-up plan in place where Cas could transport Sam in if absolutely necessary, both settled on Dean going alone.

 

Because they knew what to look for, it didn't take much time to find the Horseman's location. Sam and Cas set out to research where the other three were, with information on the patterns Dean had seen in his world. Maybe they didn't have the brains to pick new locations-- at least some luck would be on the side of Team Free Will, then.

Dean found himself musing as he drove to the familiar town. It brought a hollow kind of comfort to know that even if they had done everything right to avert the apocalypse, the angels still would have set it off. It didn't seem likely that even Rational Dean could have forseen Michael's actions, so at least some of the burden lifted from him and, in his mind, his brother.

The hunter pulled into the parking lot of the same-but-different diner he'd fought in before, deciding to scope the place out. It was night, and things looked nice and quiet, so he just looked quickly before leaving. He headed toward the motel, but thought better of it, then turning onto a suburban road.

A man and woman giggled on the sidewalk, clearly interested in each other. Dean knew how this ended.

“Hey!” he yelled, getting out of the still-running car. “Get out of here! Separate ways! Now!” The Winchester waved his gun and the couple ran-- the woman to her house and the man down the street. Yeah, he felt like a douche for it, but at least they wouldn't eat each other to death. If only they knew what Famine would have done to them.

Satisfied, he drove the next town over to spend the night.

 

He awoke in a cold sweat, mumbling prayers to Castiel.

Of course, they reached the wrong one-- the one in this cold, heartless reality, instead of his own.

His. Huh. Cas really was his.

Wait, what was he saying? He was straight. Definitely straight.

Unthinking, he tried to get out of bed, head still in a fog, and fell to the ground, legs tangled in bedsheets.

He muttered one last prayer before his world went black.

 

Castiel hauled the hunter back on to the bed, and Dean awoke to deeply concerned blue, far too close to him. But it was the wrong blue.

“-the hell? Cas?” he mumbled, feeling his faculties return. Why was his heart racing? Why did he suddenly feel better than when he'd woken up the first time?

The angel didn't move, still much too close for comfort. “Dean, you prayed. I... I know you meant it for my counterpart, but you just sounded... desperate. It was a little overwhelming.”

“What're you-” he stopped. Memories flooded in. “Shit,” he breathed, leaning his head back.

“You should pray those same words when you return, but perhaps without taking my father's name in vain. I can promise that Castiel returns your sentiments.”

Dean wanted to argue and deny it, but he just didn't have the energy, so he simply nodded.

Castiel stepped back, giving the hunter a once-over to be sure he was alright. “Under the circumstances, I think should accompany you for this mission. Useless as I may be, at least my staying close will allow you to function.”

“That asshole knew,” Dean suddenly said. “He knew why I wasn't crazy with hunger, and he just told me I wasn't affected because I'm empty.”

“What an assbutt.”

Dean laughed, and Cas gave a small smile. It felt better than he'd guessed, to have someone know.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is shameless. Sorrynotsorry

“Dean,” Castiel prodded, trying to keep the hunter focused. “Concentrate. I'm not letting you go in there if you keep falling into daydreams.” He munched on a cheeseburger, making happy little moans here and there.

Said man looked up at the angel, pain showing across his features. “Is Famine stronger in this reality? Maybe they prepared faster with a tip from Michael? Do you think they fed him, already?”

The angel narrowed his eyes. “That's a possibility, yes. All the more reason you need to get it together. Now, Dean.”

“I just... I keep thinking about Cas. My Cas.” His mind reeled at what he was saying. He couldn't stop his mouth. “What if you're wrong? What if I'm not a good-enough version Dean and he just finds me repulsive? I've hurt him a lot. God, and what if he does want me? I'm no good.”

The blue-eyed angel threw down the burger he was eating. “Shut up, Dean.”

“But I need him. And I never know when he's going to fly away.”

Agitation reaching its peak, Castiel crossed the room in three strides to where Dean sat on the bed. Giving the hunter a chance to reject him and seeing only miserable acceptance, he leaned down and pressed his lips purposefully to the hunter's mouth.

It was an extremely awkward moment. Half of Dean felt revolted, because this was the wrong Cas. It was all wrong and he wanted to get away. How could this Cas even think it was okay or that he could replace the Right Cas? The other half of him relaxed, parting his lips as he returned the kiss. Because maybe this was as close as he could ever get to kissing his Cas.

Finally, he gathered the resolve to push on the angel's chest, signaling he wanted to stop. Taking the clue, Castiel relented and pulled away.

“Famine seems to be affecting me, too. Not just my vessel. I'm sorry,” he apologized.

“No, I know,” Dean replied, sadness in his voice. “I just don't think we should do that again.”

Cas sighed, his heart heavy. “At least it worked. You're not staring off into space, now.”

Smiling and turning his green eyes to the Colt, the older Winchester silently agreed. With that, the two made their way to the Impala.

 

The area around the diner was crawling with demons, but the Colt handled them without a problem. Castiel sat back on the hood of the car, stuffing his face but ready to intervene if necessary. Dean motioned to him when the outside was secure, and they entered the building through the back entrance.

“Crap,” the hunter muttered as his companion began consuming raw meat. “My head's getting foggy again. We gotta hurry.”

Cas looked over at him, concerned. “We can't risk rushing. Dean, just let me kiss you again.”

Green eyes glared. “That's disgusting, Cas. You just jammed uncooked burger in your mouth!”

“If that's your only objection-- here.” The mess around his mouth vanished. “I've cleaned it.”

“No.”

The angel huffed, exasperated. “It's logical, Dean. You need a clear head to do this. You don't need to get killed.”

“I'm not your Dean, I don't care if it's rational! And that's the problem right there! You're not the right Cas.”

“Was it really that horrible to kiss me?”

Dean looked at those puppy eyes. He forced his gaze away. Then he looked at those damn pretty blue eyes again. Yes, they were all wrong, but if he died, he'd never make it back to his own Cas. He stared some more, then closed the distance. At least he could pretend it was the person he really wanted to kiss.

Sighing at the pleasurable sensations he wasn't supposed to feel as an Angel of the Lord, Cas put his arms gently around the hunter. When his Dean returned, he wouldn't waste anymore time. And the kiss would be more satisfying by a magnitude brighter than any star. More powerful than all the energy radiating in the cosmos. For now, kissing the wrong Dean made sense, and it wouldn't happen again, so he simply enjoyed it.

It took a few minutes before they parted, both feeling a little guilty, but now able to focus on the job needing to get done.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dean angst. Trigger warning for suicidal thoughts.

Rational Dean paced the safehouse, brain spinning as he processed Gabriel's information. “Damnit, I shouldn't have been so blindsided! Why didn't I see this when I was keeping tabs on the seals? Why am I such an idiot?” He wanted to kick the furniture, but restrained himself. After all, damaging inanimate objects wouldn't make the situation any better.

“Dean, don't beat yourself up about it. He broke them all at once. You wouldn't have been able to prevent it. He worked with Lucifer and got demons in place. They've probably known for a long time about Ruby, so they wouldn't have let it slip to her. Just so you know, before you get back to our world and try taking your anger out on her.”

“What, do you got a thing for her now?” the hunter spat, but knew it was a stupid remark.

Gabriel rolled his eyes. “Alright, I'll give you some time to get a handle on yourself.” He disappeared, leaving the older Winchester to his anger.

Letting out a groan of agitation, Dean stormed outside, slamming the door behind him. He hadn't been this angry at himself since he'd failed to prevent his father's death. Back then, he'd taken it out on the Impala, and subsequently swore never to do that again. Now, people were dying because he hadn't been vigilant enough and he was stuck in this world, only able to coordinate through Gabriel. And who knows if the self-proclaimed trickster would listen?

He mindlessly bent down to grab a fallen branch, and swung it hard against the nearest tree. He didn't care right now that catharsis was known to only increase aggression. Bark splintered off as he landed another two blows, before he plopped to the ground.

Dean pressed the heels of his hands over his closed eyes and sighed. He hated feeling this way. He hated how he couldn't handle the anger on his own. Couldn't take the pain. He fleetingly wished, at times, that one of the hunters out there doubled as a therapist, because he needed to talk to somebody about all the shit he'd dealt with. He couldn't put that burden on Sam, as much as the kid wanted to talk. Sam needed someone in his life who wasn't falling apart-- and that's what Dean had always been for him. With John working cases and hardly around, Dean had served as the stable parent figure. His role was ingrained into their relationship, and maybe with a lot of effort, that could change, but then who would Sam have?

And the worst feeling that crept up on the older hunter when he got to these low points was the insidious wish that he'd never been rescued from Hell. That he'd simply rotted in the place he belonged, uncaring, unburdened. Maybe he'd have escaped and gotten a more permanent death by another hunter. And he'd never have to think again. No more trying to imagine every possible scenario and ultimately not succeeding because he just couldn't control everything. Couldn't be on top of everything all at once. No more letting down Sam or alienating Cas.

Again, he sighed. There just didn't seem to be anybody to take his place. Who else was going to watch out for Sam? Who'd have the guts to stand up to dicks with wings when they wanted to play out insane scenarios where large portions of the planet would be devastated? Who had his experience and wide range of knowledge on how to kill monsters, bitter ancient gods, and all the other crap they'd come across on hunts?

On top of this, there were still the Leviathan, and Dean didn't know if Michael or Lucifer had the brains to attempt an alliance, or if Dick would even be interested in one. Clearly, the Winchesters were the biggest threat in both realities, so any sane enemy would use whatever means possible to come after them. Dean only hoped his other self and Sam had the ability to deal with all that crap.

“Maybe then, the world wouldn't need me and I could just go back where I belong,” he said to no one in particular.

Castiel made himself visible. “That's enough, Dean.”

The hunter's head shot up. “Were you spying on me?” he snapped.

“I heard what you were thinking.”

“Didn't the other Dean tell you not to listen to people's private thoughts?”

Shrugging vaguely, the angel sat down beside him. “The last part you said out loud.”

“That's because I didn't think anyone was listening,” the older Winchester replied, pointedly.

Cas studied his face, seemingly looking for something. The freckles were a little different, he silently noted. “You don't belong in Hell, or Castiel never would have pulled you out.” He cut Dean off before the hunter could argue, “No. From what I can tell, your universe is the same in almost every way. I know myself, and I would never pull someone out of the pit if I didn't think they deserved it. You are not the first reason to give me cause to rebel. I've always been... a bit at odds with the other angels.”

Dean smiled at this, feeling his anger recede somewhat.

“When I pulled Dean out of Hell, yes, there was some darkness in him. He resisted becoming a demon for as long as he could, but the process had started before I could reach him. Even then,” Castiel paused, considering his words, “his soul was bright. Broken in many places from loss of those he cared for, but the cracks were filled with love for them and the need to do right. So many souls fill those breaks with hatred and bitterness. Yes, everyone has those to an extent, but there was surprisingly little in the soul of Dean Winchester. I had been skeptical of my superiors, but it was then that I knew he could stop the Apocalypse. I didn't want to let go of his soul. Even when I rebuilt him and knew my true form would burn his human encasing, I didn't want to let go. I did, of course, but my mark from holding on too long stayed. The fact that you have the same handprint on your arm is proof that my counterpart felt the same way.


	12. Chapter 12

Bobby stared at the empty room. He knew the boys didn't want him on hunts, and that's why they left the flask behind every time without fail. He understood why, but that didn't make it hurt any less. Becoming a spirit had been a wholehearted decision, and had felt all too easy to make. Easy sure didn't mean right. Of course he wanted to be there for Dean and Sam. They were basically his kids. But it was clear he shouldn't have stayed, and that stung at him incessantly-- worse than the anger at Dick Roman.

He could feel the bitterness corrupting his soul, and more than once he'd considered asking the boys to just get it overwith and burn the flask, but they were gone so much he barely had a chance to talk with them.

“I'm sorry, Bobby,” Castiel's voice made him turn. “Had I not released the Leviathan, you'd still be alive.”

The ghost grunted. “You thought you were doing right.”

“Yes, well, the road to Hell,” he tapered off. “Anyway, Dean wouldn't want to have you killed until the last possible moment. As long as you can keep a handle on yourself, he thinks you'd be useful against Dick.”

“Yeah, but he's in another world. This emotional Dean seems to want rid of me as soon as possible. And he's probably right. I should have just moved on, let things go.”

The angel shook his head. “No. You becoming a ghost allowed you to tell us the Leviathans' plans. We'd have been searching for months if it weren't for you. Now, we have a plan of attack, and we can go in whenever is most advantageous for us.”

The door burst open, and the two Winchesters stormed through, flipping on the television before Sam turned to Bobby, a helpless anger radiating from his face. “Dick Roman's been killed.”

Bobby almost asked why this wasn't a good thing, when realization hit him, chilling him to the bone. “No cures...”

The younger hunter ran his fingers through his hair from the forehead back, taking a deep breath and closing his eyes. “We were so close. Damnit. I just hope the ones in the other reality find it and maybe Dean can bring it back? Will he know to do that?”

Castiel laid a calming hand on the man who was his honorary brother. “Sam, we can ask Gabriel to give him a message. He has no trouble traveling between universes.” 

The taller man nodded, inhaling and exhaling to calm himself, and sat on the couch with his not-brother.

Dean still couldn't look at the angel, so he just stared at the tv screen. “Just think of it as one less enemy we have to take out. The work's been done for us. They were just there as a backup for the Leviathan working in the other world.”

Finally relaxing, Sam smiled. “Yeah. Thanks, you're right.”

“Anyway,” the green-eyed hunter continued, “we've got the rings. Now we just have to deal with a couple of winged dicks, instead of Dick, and the other Dean and I will get to go back home.”

The ghost of Bobby Singer ignored the rest of the conversation, fading into the spirit-space that merely lay adjacent to the world of the living. It was quiet, here, and he could think. Dick Roman was out of the picture, and he felt as if he were teetering on the thin line between two options.

One: he could let himself feel that mix of sick satisfaction that his murderer had passed on combined with anger that he hadn't been the one to send him off. The emotions threatened to overwhelm him, to become him. To be nothing but a ball of hatred and pain and vengeance, destroying anyone similar to the Leviathan who had wronged him, cleansing the Earth of his kind. A vengeful spirit without control.

Two: He could let it go. He could stop holding on to the anger at his killer. The pain of rejection he felt from his boys. The bitterness at a life that had mostly been the short end of the stick. The pit in his stomach at never working out the fight he'd had with his wife and never fathering biological children. The rage at himself for not knowing enough to keep his wife safe and alive. And with that, he might disappear forever.

Bobby felt the decision come, easier than he'd thought it'd be.

He closed his eyes and fell from the line.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know what happened here. This fic wasn't supposed to be sad. Maybe that's inevitable with the Winchesters.

“What?” Dean would have jumped back had he been standing, but instead just looked at Cas in surprise. “I asked Cas why he left a handprint on me, and he just said it was to be expected when he 'gripped me and raised me from perdition!'” The hunter mimiced the angel's voice as he said the last part.

Castiel looked irritated. “He lied to you?”

“Wouldn't be the first time,” Dean said, bitterly.

“You two must have a worse relationship than us,” the other man supplied, not helpfully.

Dean huffed out a humorless, single-note laugh. “So in both worlds, Castiel just couldn't let Dean go. And in both worlds, all four of us are too emotionally stupid to just frickin' say we care. Although, admittedly, we try through our actions, but it gets misinterpreted.”

“Well, I don't know if stupid is the right word. Afraid, I think, works better.”

“Right. You mentioned you didn't want to lose the only friends you made on this planet, the ones you rebelled for. If Dean didn't return the sentiment, he might have sent you away. I get it.”

Cas touched his shoulder. “Except I rebelled for you, Dean,” he said, earnestly, staring into the bright green eyes of the hunter next to him.

“You rebelled for the other me.”

“Yes, but maybe the other Castiel didn't tell you this, and you need to hear it. Because Dean, it was all for you.”

Their faces were closer now. Too close for Dean's comfort. There was no sense in getting attached to yet another Castiel, and even if he did, it wasn't the Castiel he wanted. The hunter stood up.

“No, Cas, he didn't tell me. Look, I appreciate this. It clarified some things and I appreciate that, but I need to talk to Gabriel.”

Watching the hunter's receding back, Castiel sat alone. It was strange, the way he constantly felt like he was letting Dean down. Like he could never be the protector, when he was, by far, the stronger one. Not for either Dean Winchester, but especially the rational one. He silently prayed that his counterpart find peace, with or without the hunter.

 

 

The archangel took his time responding to Dean's prayers, because he'd been enjoying a particularly diabolical prank in Japan. Eventually, when he'd gotten his laughs, he appeared in the safehouse.

“Are those burgers? Make one for me,” he commanded jovially as the hunter flipped patties on the stove.

“Sure,” he agreed. Dean put another meat ellipsoid in the skillet, smiling at the crackling sound it made. “So, I've been thinking about what the plan of attack should be.”

Gabriel nodded. “That's what I want to hear! I guess I shouldn't be surprised that you can think in the middle of your moodswings.”

The hunter rolled his eyes, which went unnoticed given that he still faced the stove. “Multitasking is underrated. Anyway, you're going to get to trick people. Should be fun for you.”

“You know just how to make me all tingly inside.”

Dean went on, ignoring the comment. “We're going to get Lucifer and Michael to Stull Cemetery, so they'll be close to the Gates of Hell. Then, we're going to shove them in the pit together.”

“Um,” the archangel started, skeptically.

“No, listen. It worked in this reality. Just barely. But in ours, we have a clear advantage. Remember that time Bobby got possessed and took control long enough to keep himself from killing us?”

“Yes, but angels are stronger.”

“And so am I.”

“What?”

“I'm going to say 'yes' to Michael and throw myself and Lucifer into the Cage. You're going to tell both of them that me and Sammy will say yes, but in reality, only I will.”

“This is the stupidest plan you've ever had, Dean!”

He shrugged. “Look. I've been wanting to return to Hell for a long time, Gabriel. I don't feel like I belong here. I'm sure as hell not letting Sammy take the fall. He's the one who has a chance, here. The one who wants a normal, apple-pie life. It's not like you should care, anyway.” He shoveled the burgers on to a plate, turning off the stove and setting the food on the table.

Before he could sit, a fist connected with his face.

“What the hell Ga-” he stopped when he realized who it was. “Cas?”

Castiel glared furiously. “You may not be this world's Dean, but I'm not going to let you do anything so stupid!” he was yelling in the hunter's face now.

“Oh, so this is how you solve your problems and show you care? You punch people and yell at them?”

The angel stayed silent, and the two vanished.

Gabriel blinked. And then he laughed.

 

 

Dean didn't know where he was, but it was dark and cold. That was about all he had time to notice before his body was suddenly up against a wall.

“I know you have the sigils carved into your ribs, so don't expect Gabriel to swoop in and get you,” came the blue-eyed angel's rough voice. Dean couldn't even see him in the blackness.

The hunter took a deep breath. Flying off the handle wouldn't make this insane celestial creature act more rationally. “Look,” he said, calmly, “did you ever think that maybe I hadn't finished explaining my plan? Or that maybe I was just lying to Gabriel to do something else? Or that even if I had decided to throw myself into the pit, that it would be my choice and not yours?”

Castiel didn't budge.

“Michael and Lucifer are dicks, but they're your family. You'd probably go along with the real plan, but Gabriel would not.”

Castiel waited.

“Trust me. I'm not actually throwing myself in the pit. That would be stupid when there's a much easier way to do this. I can't afford to take the risk and tell you what I'm actually going to do, because if Gabriel finds out, it's not going to work. I can control my thoughts, and Gabriel has a little more respect than you about prying into people's minds. Also, when you drop me back at the safehouse, you need to stay away. I don't want Gabriel to even think I have another plan. I've spent years being honest with him so that I can lie when it really matters and not be detected. Okay? Don't screw us all over, Cas.”

Castiel glared.

And finally, Castiel gave him a hard, appraising look. “You are conniving and cold. I pity the Castiel of your world, and I hope he falls for someone better than you.”


	14. Chapter 14

The real plan was based on an extremely clever idea stolen from Crowley. Maybe it would make this world's Cas edgy for multiple reasons, but as long as he stayed away like Dean wanted, there shouldn't be any trouble. Crowley and Dean had enjoyed long strategic talks while averting the Apocalypse back home, but apparently the so-called King of Hell didn't have enough power to keep the demons in line to stop seals from opening up.

So, if Crowley was weak enough to crumble under Lucifer, Dean could probably take him out after dealing with the whole Apocalypse business. That was a thought to keep in mind.

Really, the reason he'd objected to his Cas working with Crowley wasn't that he minded the demon's help. More that using monster souls and helping the “King” gain power were stupid ideas. If the angel had just come to him for help, Dean was sure he could have figured out a better way to win Heaven's civil war.

He shook his head to focus, and put his emotions on the back-burner. Like usual, a voice in his brain said. I know, he told it. I'll deal with them when I get the chance.

Tomorrow, they'd finally tackle Dick, and Dean would get to go home. And he was fairly certain by the way no one mentioned a particular piece of information, that Kevin in his own universe had translated more of the Leviathan tablet than Kevin in this one.

Dean wasn't sleeping tonight, mostly from guilt about what he was going to do.

“Castiel, if you wouldn't mind getting your feathery ass down here, I need to ask something of you.”

After a few minutes, a flutter of wings announced the arrival of a drunken angel. “What do you want, assbutt?”

The hunter turned to him. Knowing the angel's answer, he asked anyway. “Who, of those of us going tomorrow, is the most expendable?”

 

 

Castiel plunged the bone through Dick Roman, who exploded. The angel vanished.

Dean caught a glimpse of Sam's horrified face just before Gabriel grabbed the green-eyed hunter and they were gone as well.

 

 

They landed at the safehouse, and he met the other Dean's eyes, guiltily. Sam and Cas were there, but they might just kick him out after all this was over.

“Hey, I get to go back now, right?” the other Dean smiled and walked toward the archangel. “Look, I'd love to stay and chat, but I really just want this to be over with.”

Rational Dean nodded. “Yeah. I just have to tell you something so you have a chance to punch the crap outta me. Someone had to kill Dick, and the weapon sends that user to Purgatory. I convinced Cas to do it. I'm sorry.”

It took the other Dean a moment to register what he couldn't believe, and suddenly he leapt at Rational Dean. He got in a few punches to the face before Sam hauled him off of the other man. “You killed Cas!” he screamed, lurching out of the younger hunter's arms and jumping on the target of his rage.

Rational Dean held up a hand to signal Sam to back off, accepting the attack of his counterpart.

Eventually, after what probably were a few broken ribs and a seriously messed up face, Dean stopped attacking Dean and just cried silently. Gabriel walked over, putting a hand to his shoulder, and the two disappeared.

“That could have gone worse. He could have killed me.”

“It isn't funny, Dean,” Castiel rematerialized sitting next to him. “And I don't think I should heal you.”

The older hunter bobbed his head in understanding. “I agree. And if the damn Apocalypse hadn't started in our world, I'd have gone to Purgatory myself. But unfortunately, this is how the most people survive.”

“Always logic behind your dick moves,” Sam said, darkly, and left the room.

The older Winchester wouldn't ask for their forgiveness or comprehension. It was his burden. Because his favorite quote had to be “personal isn't the same as important.” 

That didn't make what he'd done any better, but he was used to hard decisions and being thought of as heartless. It was no less than what he deserved for everyone to hate him.

Cas grabbed his shoulders. “No, Dean,” he said, sharply.

Dean looked up at him questioningly, too tired to figure out what he meant on his own.

“You're not throwing yourself into the pit. And before you complain, your thought was abnormally loud and hard not to hear. Whatever your other plan is, you're sticking to that.”

The hunter nodded, wearily, and felt the angel heal his wounds. Dean smiled in appreciation, but it didn't reach his eyes.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've always struggled with what I believe to be the better answer of the moral question where you can choose to save someone close to you, or they can die but prevent some large number of deaths. Say 1000.
> 
> The answer, I think, is that you're screwed either way. You can save 1000 and be labeled a heartless monster because you didn't put your loved one first. Or you can save your loved one and be labeled a selfish, horrible person.
> 
> It doesn't exactly matter to me which is morally superior, because I couldn't fault someone for whichever choice they made.

Stull Cemetery looked the same as Dean remembered it. Cas had obligingly given his angel blade for whatever purpose the hunter deemed fit, and did not come to the showdown lest Gabriel sense the plan Dean had was not the real plan. He would be watching, he had warned, and, for some reason, that had made the older Winchester happy. Hmmph. For “some reason,” his brain mocked him. He knew exactly why. It meant that Cas still cared. But who knows if he still would after this? Some emotions, Dean could predict, but when it came to others, he was totally lost.

He turned to Sam, smiling weakly. His brother just glared back.

Suddenly, three archangels appeared, and it was time.

“So,” said one, in what appeared to be a teen's body, “you've finally agreed to say 'yes' to me, Dean?”

“You must be Michael. Well, we've shown up for that, haven't we?”

The one he guessed to be Lucifer smirked. “We find it amusing that you think you can overpower us. A one-on-one battle of wills. Really, quite entertaining.”

Gabriel looked between his two brothers. “You really want to do this? We don't have to fight, you know.”

They ignored him, and Dean felt more than heard the ringing in his ears as the question from Michael came. It was tempting. It was so tempting to just give in and agree. To forget about Heaven and Earth and Hell... and Purgatory, for that matter. To not deal with these crazy strong feelings for Cas and the scorn of his brother.

All he deserved was torture. Not forgiveness and certainly not reciprication from Cas. Dean felt the words forming at the tip of his tongue before a voice in his head clamped his mouth shut. Giving in was easier, but leaving behind a mess that most of the world didn't even know existed wasn't to be taken lightly. Why work to fix what's wrong when you can just give up? Because it won't make anything better. All you'll leave behind is hurt and confusion and there are millions of seconds left in this life, where literally any of them can be used to make things better. To waste all of that just because it was a little painful to deal with? It just didn't make sense.

Two gunshots blasted through the air. Gabriel lunged for the older hunter, but Dean didn't see what happened next, because Cas had grabbed him and now they were both gone. Where, he wasn't sure, but the two stumbled, falling onto a bed, the angel breathing heavily.

“Dean,” his gravelly voice was much too comforting, “I am fully certain, now, that you are insane.”

The hunter turned, green eyes meeting blue. “You know, I keep wondering when I'm going to have to fall back on my contingency plans when you finally decide I'm not worth saving.”

Cas rolled his eyes. “You can save the effort, because I'll always save you. Even when you hated me, I came. I'll always come.”

Dean wanted to cry, because that kind of dedication was both depressing and uplifting and more kindness than he deserved. “I'm not worth it, Cas. I love you and I want you, but all I'd do is screw you over.”

“Stop it, Dean. Just stop thinking and analyzing for five minutes.” He shifted so he was leaning over the hunter, hands splayed on either side of him. “Because not everything has to balance out or make sense, and I love you, too.”

Cas kissed him gently. The action brought more relief than electricity, but it was warm and perfect, and neither would have changed a thing about it.

“Where are we, anyway?”

The angel rolled his eyes. “Five minutes, Dean?” The hunter smiled, and Castiel relaxed, shifting to straddle him and get comfortable lying on his chest.

Dean put one hand around his angel's waist and another found its resting place in his dark, messy hair. Pushing aside intruding thoughts, he focused on how Cas felt lying on top of him. The security it brought them both. The way he could so easily get used to moments like these, and apparently this was in the realm of possibilities. Cas did want him back. Castiel. Angel of the Lord. Who rebelled for him, couldn't let him go, had unwavering loyalty and faith in him. Who was the only one allowed to order him to stop thinking for a little while. Who he'd do anything for, provided it didn't harm Sam.

And that scared this Dean, who treated trust like something to be broken when necessary, and who constantly weighed circumstances as objectively as possible-- except when it came to Sam. And maybe a little for Cas. It frightened him to have that ability compromised.

The angel stroked his cheek, pulling him from his worries. “You'll want to know that the closer we are, physically, the louder your thoughts are to me. If we're intimate, I'm not sure I'll be able to shut it out. Um, and I'll be hearing them for sometime afterward. As long as it takes for my Grace to leave your body.”

Dean nodded, and for once he wasn't concerned about Cas invading his privacy. He locked his green eyes with those nothing-short-of-fully-accepting blue ones. “I want you to see everything.”

Taken aback by a statement so un-Dean Winchester-like, the angel hesitated. But he found there was nothing but sincerity and need as he kissed him again, tendrils of Grace reaching out and wrapping around each thought gently, examining it with admiration. To see the entirety of him-- the carefully considered ideological constructs and methods-- rather than simply stray sentences that barely hinted at what he really thought and intended... Dean radiated beauty. His outer image did nowhere near justice to his soul, and to intermingle with it affected Cas much more strongly than just touching it had. It was almost too intense to bear, and at the same time, he could linger entwined in Dean's soul forever.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! This story was fun to write and I hope one person, at least, enjoyed it!

Dean's brain ached from how thoroughly Cas had enjoyed inspecting every last neural connection. It caused a pleasant vulnerability that the hunter had never before experienced, and he had never felt closer to anyone. Somehow, the angel had imprinted on Dean's very brain structure that he would not leave. That he found Dean beautiful beyond compare. That Dean could trust him.

“We're in Spain, early 2300's,” the angel supplied as he noticed the older Winchester awake and in a reverie.

Nodding, Dean rolled over groggily, figuring it was his turn to curl up on the other man's chest. “I wish I could read your mind, too,” he said, resting his head on the side of his angel's neck.

Cas grinned. “I think I can show it to you, once you've recovered. Not all at once-- I've been alive for billions of years and that much would be overwhelming if unseparated.”

“Mm. So, is there a way to keep the link open? Can you and I talk back and forth in our minds?”

Castiel's hands slid under the hunter's shirts, rubbing his back absentmindedly. “If I continually feed my Grace into you, yes. You think it would be useful?”

“Useful, yes, at times. But, uh, I mostly just like how it feels,” Dean admitted. “Hey, how pissed do you think Gabriel is?”

Sighing, Cas shrugged. “He was ready to kill you, Dean. I know you were going to shoot him, but I doubt you'd have been fast enough. What would I have done if you'd died? You can't put yourself at risk like that, anymore.”

“I had to stop the Apocalypse, Cas. You would have me sacrifice the world for your happiness?”

“For your safety, perhaps.”

Dean chuckled darkly. “I'd rather not be that important to anyone.”

“Too bad. Sam's that important to you, and you're that important to me.”

The hunter lifted his head to stick out his tongue defiantly, really having no good retort to that. “Next on my checklist is delivering the cancer cure to scientists, and then we're taking out Crowley.”

“Gabriel's after you, Dean,” the angel pointed out.

“Give him Heaven. He can take over and have what he always wanted-- no more family fights.”

“You think it's that easy, Dean?”

The man in question pushed himself up, got off the bed, and stretched. “It's not going to be easy, but it is the simplest solution. He wants what's best for his family, and when he sees the resulting peace, he'll hopefully get over how much he now hates me. You in?”

Cas stood, moving behind him and looping his arms securely around the hunter's waist. “Don't ask stupid questions.”

 

 

A universe away, Dean walked up to a reaper. “Ajay,” he said, assertively. “I need your services.”

The man looked him up and down. “Dean Winchester. Alright, but you'll owe me a favor.”

“What kind of favor does a reaper want?” he looked skeptical.

“Always good to have a Winchester in your debt. It won't be anything horrible. I'm not a bad guy.”

Dean contemplated for a moment, then put out his hand. “Deal. You take me to Purgatory, and you give me enough time to find my friend.”

Ajay raised an eyebrow. “And how am I supposed to know when you've found him?”

“Just appear at the same spot once every two weeks or something.”

“Once per month. I'm not wasting my time.”

“Fine.”

Purgatory felt hollow and was devoid of so much color. Not long after the reaper had left did the hunter have to kill his first attacker. Dean shuddered at the thought of Castiel, wandering alone in this god-forsaken land.

 

 

Dean felt like he was practically dragging the angel back to the meeting point with how reluctant the man seemed. The hunter stopped walking, sitting against a tree. A few months of slashing your way through a place and you seemed to develop some sort of reputation that made people leave you alone. Well, sometimes they left you alone.

“Come on, Cas, talk to me,” the hunter prodded, prompting the angel to face him.

Face dirty and with the expression of a broken man, Castiel sat in front of the man who seemed to have unending faith in him. “I need to do penance, Dean. I don't want to leave before then.”

Dean's face fell. “What do you need to do penance for, huh? And why does it have to be here?”

“I decimated Heaven. I let loose the Leviathan on Earth, and if it weren't for other people cleaning up my mess, humanity would have been nothing more than cattle. At least here, everyone's trying to kill me. It makes sense.”

Dean leaned forward, putting his hands on the other man's shoulders. “Listen to me, okay? I'm speaking from experience. Remember when I tried saying 'yes' to Michael? You wouldn't let me, and after a while, I realized something. You can try fixing all of your problems by hating yourself and inflicting some kind of punishment on yourself, or even letting someone else command your entire life. You can try, but it doesn't work. It just makes you hurt and doesn't actually solve the root problem. So if you really want to do penance, then you get your feathery ass back to Earth and Heaven and if it's pain you want, face the people you hurt. Go to them and make amends. Rebuild Heaven. Help humanity in whatever way. Hunt with me and save lives. But whatever you do, you do it with me, because you're it for me, okay?”

Cas nodded quietly, then almost fell backward when the hunter pressed forward into his arms, embracing him tightly.

“Thank you, Dean.”

“Let's go, Cas.” He pulled the angel up to stand with him. “Oh, and I promised myself I'd man up and do something.” Dean smiled, almost shyly, and brought a hand to cup Cas' face. “I love you.”

They kissed once.

“I love you, too, Dean.”

They kissed once more, and headed off to meet Ajay.


End file.
